


Mortality

by robinwritesallthethings



Category: Extant (TV)
Genre: Cancer, F/M, Family, Language, Medical, Miscarriage, Physical Abuse, Romance, Sci-Fi, Self-Insert, Series, Stillbirth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: JD Richter never thought he’d fall in love again. He also never thought he’d be entangled in a real government conspiracy. Now all he wants is to be able to protect what’s most important to him.





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD Richter is working a case when he meets Dr. Robin Ballard.

**JD**

I walk out of the elevator and into the bright hospital hallway, squinting a bit. Why do they insist on making everything in these damn places a blinding shade of white?

I stop at the reception desk and smile at the nurse sitting behind it. “JD Richter,” I introduce myself. “Patrol Special. I’m looking for Dr. Robin Ballard. Is he in?”

The nurse blinks at me, clearly barely keeping from rolling her eyes. “She is in her office,” she answers, emphasizing my gender mistake with a great deal of syllabic elongation.

Shit. Already doing great on this one, clearly.

“Do you have an appointment?” she continues. “The doctor is very busy.”

“I just need a few minutes,” I assure her. “Then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

She’s considering my proposition when a short woman in neon pink scrubs and matching tennis shoes rounds the corner. Her light brown hair is pinned up, though several strands have escaped and are hanging in wild waves around her face. She’s balancing several medical charts in her arms and munching on a pastrami sandwich that is hanging unceremoniously out of her mouth.

She stops and looks at me curiously, pushing her cute thick-framed black glasses up on her nose, retrieving the uneaten half of her sandwich and holding it aloft while she shifts the next chart in her pile to the top. It’s an impressive display of balancing for sure.

“Dr. Ballard?” I guess, hoping I’ve lucked out.

“That’s me,” she confirms. “Can I help you?”

“May I have a few minutes of your time, Dr. Ballard? I’m JD Richter, Patrol Special.”

She nods. “Follow me to my office. I have a surgery in an hour, but I’m yours until then.”

“Thank you very much, ma’am.”

She snorts as I start to walk beside her. “Ma’am,” she mutters. “Robin, please, JD.”

“Robin it is,” I reply easily. “Can I carry anything for you?” I offer.

She shakes her head adamantly. “If you touch anything I am holding, it would be like disrupting a delicate ecosystem, though I appreciate the gesture.” She stretches up on her tiptoes and opens her eye wide for the retinal scanner that controls her door.

“Can I get you anything, JD?” She sets her charts down and inhales the last half of her sandwich before carefully pinning her hair back into place.

“No thank you. I just had a few questions for you about Nancy Milton.” Robin seems nice, and I don’t want to waste any more of her time than I have to.

Her face falls immediately when I say the name. “Nancy’s dead?” she wonders. Her voice is resigned and sad.

“I didn’t say anything about her being dead,” I observe nonchalantly.

Robin shrugs. “You’re a cop. Any cop worth their salt knows that if she were still alive, I’d need her permission to talk about her. But if she’s dead, doctor-patient confidentiality doesn’t apply.”

I can’t argue with her logic. She sighs. “Computer,” she orders wearily, “pull up Nancy Milton’s files, please.”

The files appear behind her on the wall. She turns and taps to pull up some images. I go and stand next to her. “What am I looking at, exactly?”

“Nancy Milton’s full body scans,” she tells me. She points to several spots as she speaks. “This damage you see is characteristic of long-term abuse. Her husband. It was pretty obvious from her reaction when I asked some leading questions. I reported it, but without Nancy’s corroboration, there was nothing that could be done. She only came to me because her baby needed surgery in utero.”

“Was that related to the abuse?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No. Birth defect. I fixed it. It was a fairly simple procedure.” She looks at me hopefully. “What about her baby? She was about eight months along. Even if she died, the baby could have survived.”

“It didn’t,” I admit softly.

Her face falls again. “Dammit,” she curses quietly. “Dammit.” She sits at her desk and puts her head in her hands. “I tried to get her to talk to someone. I tried to get her to leave. She was having a boy. She wanted to name him William. It was her father’s name.”

I sit on the edge of her desk and put my hand over hers. “Hey,” I say gently, “this wasn’t your fault. I’ve seen a lot of situations like this, unfortunately, and it sounds like you did everything you could. I appreciate how forthcoming you’ve been.”

“Please tell me it will do some good,” she whispers.

“I’ll do my best to make sure it does, Robin. Promise.”

She nods. “Thank you, JD.” She opens a drawer in her desk and pulls out a file, handing it to me. “These are Nancy’s paper files. In case you need them.”

I nod, taking the stack of paper from her. “What kind of place still keeps paper files?” I distract her with the question, not wanting our conversation to end so dismally.

“That’s just me,” she acknowledges. “Technology is great until it fails you. I have to be able to do surgeries the old-fashioned way and have access to my patient information if the system goes down.”

“I can appreciate that,” I agree. I pause and then add, “Technology is a useful servant, but a dangerous master.”

Robin smiles. “Christian Lous Lange was a wise man.”

“Not many people recognize that quote when I pull it out,” I confess.

“Maybe they can’t think because they’re blinded by the reflection from your tin foil hat,” Robin teases.

I laugh heartily. “I’m not crazy, Robin. Just practical.”

I’m surprised at how much I like her. She’s not anything like I expected her to be.

Of course, I didn’t even expect her to be a woman, so maybe my bar was low.

My phone beeps and I grimace, pulling it out to look at it. “Well, Robin, I’m afraid duty calls.” I hold up the file. “Thank you again for the information.”

“You’re welcome, JD.” She gets up and walks me to the door. “Good luck with your case.”

She hesitates, then stands on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. She grabs my shoulder in her hand and I raise mine to her elbow to steady her. “Make the bastard pay,” she murmurs.

My phone beeps again and I pull away reluctantly. I nod before tapping my phone to get an update from VAL, feeling oddly disappointed to leave Robin behind.

**Robin**

I watch JD walk casually down the hallway, lingering in my doorway until he’s out of sight.

I wish we’d met under different circumstances. He seems funny, smart, and kind, and he’s extraordinarily handsome.

I turn back to my desk and my heart clenches in my chest as I see Nancy Milton’s scans still up on the screen behind it.

“Computer, close files.” The screen goes dark. “Store in archive. Mark subjects as deceased.”

I became a doctor because I wanted to save people.

But the truth is that for every person you save, there’s a Nancy Milton.

And no matter how many people you save, you always remember the ones you couldn’t do anything for the most.

****

Seven hours later, I’m out of surgery and feeling pretty good about the world. I know it won’t last, but it makes up for finding out about Nancy just a bit, at least for today.

I stop by reception on the way back to my office to check and see if anything new has come up while I was busy. Sarah, the night nurse, has just started her shift, but as usual, she’s already on top of everything. She shakes her head and tells me everything is fine when I ask.

“There’s a man here to see you, though,” she informs me. I look up curiously and follow her finger to the quiet alcove at the end of the hall which houses a few semi-comfortable chairs and a TV set to low volume.

I can’t help smiling when I see JD. He’s reading, so he hasn’t noticed me yet.

“How long has he been here?”

“A few hours. I told him you would be a while, but he said he didn’t mind waiting.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

I unpin my hair as I walk towards him, fluffing it out. He hears my footsteps and looks up, smiling back at me. He stands, slipping his hands into his pockets and waiting for me to stop in front of him.

“JD,” I greet him. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Tired of me already, huh?” He winks at me playfully.

I laugh. “No, no, not at all. Did you need to know anything more about Nancy? We can go to my office.”

“I got everything I needed, thank you. I just wanted to tell you that I got him. Henry Milton. The files you gave me should clinch the case. He’ll go away for a long time.”

I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, that’s something, at least.”

JD reaches out and touches my shoulder. “I know. I know you wish that something could have been done before Nancy and William died. I’m sorry about that.”

“You remembered his name,” I can’t help pointing out. It’s a small detail, but it touches me.

“It was worth remembering, Robin.” His thumb moves gently against my arm.

“You’re a sweet man, JD.” I stare up into his deep hazel eyes, unable to help wondering what else lingers underneath his surface.

“Aw, now you’re gonna make me blush.” He smirks, highlighting his amazing dimples.

I chuckle. “How about I make you blush over dinner?” I suggest impulsively.

I don’t generally date much, but there’s something about JD that’s irresistible. Even if it’s just for one night, I’d be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

He licks his lower lip slowly. “I’d like that very much, Robin. Where would you like to go?”

“My place,” I decide without missing a beat. “I’ll grill surf and turf. And my bathtub is big enough for two.”

I may as well let him know what my intentions are. Any man whose hips move like JD’s when he walks is going to be great in bed.

JD raises his eyebrows and grins. “I don’t know a man in the world who would say no to that offer,” he admits. “Do you need to drop by your office first?”

I nod. “Just to gather my things.”

“Should I follow you home?” He rests his hand on my lower back as he escorts me down the hall. “I have a car.”

“If you’d like to drive, that would be lovely. I take the hospital shuttle so I can work during the ride.”

“I’d be happy to drive, Robin. It’s the least I could do in exchange for dinner.” He tactfully doesn’t mention anything else.

“Thank you, JD.”

It doesn’t take me long to make sure my office is tidy and grab my bag. I slip my arm through his as we exit the building, taking a deep breath of fresh air and sighing.

I hope it’s going to be a good night.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD goes home with Robin and they have dinner. She tells him why she became a doctor.

**JD**

I help Robin up into the Jeep, handing her bag in after her. She smiles as I slide into the driver’s seat.

“No self-driving car, JD?” she asks. It’s one of the most popular new technological amenities, so it’s a logical question.

“Those things give me the creeps,” I admit. “I like to be in control of my own fate, thank you very much.” I do have a GPS, though. I punch in her address as she tells it to me.

“I don’t have one either,” she confesses. “I actually hate driving. The hospital shuttle has a human operator, so it’s not too bad. And it’s a good opportunity to get my files in order before relaxing for the evening.”

I grin. “I thought doctors just worked all the time.”

“Balance, JD,” she teases me. “I don’t work once I’m home, barring emergencies. I do have an office in case I need to work there, but I don’t use it that often.”

“I like that.” I glance at her house as I pull into her driveway; she doesn’t live very far from the hospital at all. It’s simple. One level. Nice landscaping. Tasteful, not ostentatious.

She clicks open the garage and tells me that I’m welcome to park inside. I pull in and she shuts the door behind us. She has a tablet that is clearly connected to the house that she uses to turn on the lights.

“Smart house?” I wonder.

“More like a quarter smart house,” Robin laughs. “I have a few of the features that I like, but otherwise, it’s just a plain old house.” We walk inside. “Feel free to hang your coat up. There’s a fully stocked bar if you’d like to make yourself a drink. I’m going to change and then I’ll get dinner started.”

“Let me know what I can do to help,” I offer. “Do you want a drink?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t drink. The bar is just for guests. But thank you.”

I nod and wander over to pour myself a scotch, looking around as I take a sip.

The house is nice. Hardwood floors, open floor plan, great kitchen.

But it’s also got her personality. There are accent walls that provide splashes of color, and the furniture is eclectic, chosen more for comfort than a singular aesthetic.

Robin returns a moment later, wearing a pair of casual loose pants covered in polka dots and a striped shirt with ¾ sleeves. Her feet are bare, and her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail.

“Hungry?” She pulls a Diet Coke with Lime out of her fridge and pops it open, sipping it.

“Very.” I finish my scotch and pour another. “Why don’t you drink? I’m just curious, not judgmental,” I add quickly.

“I know, JD.” She sets her soda down and begins pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets. “Really, it’s mostly practical. I could get called into work at any time, and I can’t be tipsy if I’m going to operate. I like to have my head on straight at all times.”

I grimace. “As someone who drinks to forget every once in a while, that sounds painful,” I observe.

Robin has the good grace not to ask exactly what I mean. “It is,” she reveals. “Sometimes I’d like to forget things that I’ve seen. But hopefully I can use what I’ve learned to make the world a better place.”

“Ah. You’re an idealist.” I wink to let her know that I’m just messing with her.

“Sometimes you need some idealism,” she murmurs. She walks around the counter to a picture on the wall and I follow her. It’s a cemetery plot with eight headstones.

“That’s my grandmother,” she says, pressing a finger to the headstone on the far left. She drags it to the next one over. “And her son. He died when he was sixteen. Leukemia.” She crosses her arms and looks at me. Tears are glistening in her eyes.

I put my arm around her shoulder, squeezing it gently as she continues speaking in a low, reverent voice. “The other six headstones belong to babies she lost. A few stillborn, a few late miscarriages. No one ever found out what caused it. Sometimes it’s impossible to tell, even with the medical advances we’ve made in the past few decades. I can’t imagine how much pain she went through. The physical, mental, and emotional strain must have been enormous. But she kept trying until she had her son, and then his brother. My father.”

She pauses to sniffle and wipe a few tears away. I set my glass down and pull her into my arms, cradling her head against my chest. “She died when I was seven, so I never knew while she was alive. But every day, I think about how brave she was, and how she never gave up. I became a doctor so I could save the babies she lost. So other women wouldn’t have to go through what she did. I can only try to be as amazing as she was.”

She puts her arms around me and takes a deep breath, letting me comfort her. It’s a deeply personal story, obviously, and I can sense that she doesn’t tell it to just anyone.

“Thank you for telling me, Robin,” I whisper. “I think that’s a better reason to become a doctor than most people have.” I kiss her forehead. “I saw how upset you were today when I told you about Nancy and William. I know it must hurt, but the fact that you felt their loss that deeply says a lot about you.”

She clings to me a little tighter. “It’s always the ones you can’t help that you remember the most,” she says quietly.

I nod. “I get that. I really do. But something good must have happened today. You were smiling when I came back. Tell me about that.”

She props her chin up on my chest and smiles at me brightly. “I saved quintuplets in utero. They all had the same birth defect, and it had to be corrected right away.”

“You’re making me feel like a slacker,” I joke, grinning at her.

She blushes. “Well, you caught a murderer,” she points out. “I’ve never done that.”

“I only caught him because of you,” I protest. “So you did your job and mine.”

“I’m sure you did all the most important stuff,” she assures me. She tilts her head to the side and bites her lip. “Does that mean you have handcuffs?”

I raise one eyebrow. “Always.”

“I better feed you so you have all your strength.” She takes my hands and I gladly follow her into the kitchen.

“How are your grilling instincts, JD?” she wonders, gesturing to the little patio off of the kitchen. There’s a real grill there, not one of the new electronic ones that’s controlled by a computer.

“Am I not a man?” I respond dramatically, putting a hand on my chest.

She giggles and hands me a tray with two steaks and two lobster tails on it. “I’ll have garlic butter ready for you in a few minutes so you can baste.”

“Delicious,” I comment, firing up the grill. “I like that you have a real grill,” I tell her.

She smiles. “I like to cook. Really cook. All of the new kitchen tech makes it such an impersonal process.”

“Agreed. How do you like your steak, Robin?”

“I prefer rare.”

I smile. “Me too.”

Less than an hour later, we’re sitting on her porch, our feet up on the railing, eating Caesar salad, steak, lobster, and spicy fries. I’ve switched my drink to club soda so I’m not completely useless later.

That would be a damn shame.

“The food was all wonderful, Robin,” I tell her as I clean my plate. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for cooking the meat,” she counters. “You did a great job.”

“It was my pleasure.”

She stands, taking my plate and leaning down to brush her nose over mine.

“I hope you’re ready for some more pleasure, JD,” she purrs.

I follow her eagerly back into the house. She sets the kitchen to self-clean and winks at me. “One of the technological advancements I do enjoy,” she admits.

Then she takes my hands and starts to lead me to her bedroom.


End file.
